The Smiling Hill-Top | Page 3

in July and it was not till
October that it finally fell crushing into the sage brush, and for the first
time we saw the uninterrupted curve of beach melting into the pale
greenish cliffs beyond.
The property on which the pole stood belonged to a real-estate man. He
was pleasant and full of rosy dreams of a suburban villa resort, the gem
of the Pacific Coast. That part was easy. He and I together visited the
offices of the corporations owning the wires on that pole. As they had
no legal right of way they had to promise to remove it and many others,
to the tune of several hundred dollars. Nothing was left them but the
game of delay. They told me their men were busy, that all the copper
wire was held up by a landslide in the Panama Canal, that the
superintendent was on a vacation, etc. However, the latter gentleman
had to come back some time, and when he did I plaintively told him my
troubles. I said I had had a very hard and disappointing summer, and
that it would soothe me enormously to have one look at that view as the
Lord intended it to be, before I had to go away for the winter, that it
was in his power to give me that pleasure, etc.
Perhaps it was an unusual method, but it worked so well that I have
often employed it since. I may say incidentally that it is of no use with
the ice man. Perhaps dealing with merchandise below zero keeps his
resistance unusually good. I have never been able to extract a pound of

ice from him, even for illness, except on his regular day and in my
proper turn. I think I should also except the fish man, who always
promises to call Fridays and never does; much valuable time have I lost
in searching the highways and byways for his old horse and white
wagon.
Next to the execution of the telegraph pole I felt a little grass lawn to be
of the utmost importance. Nothing could better show how short a time I
had been in California than not to realize that even if you can afford to
dine on caviar, paté de fois gras, and fresh mushrooms, grass may be
beyond your means. I bravely had the ground prepared and sown. First,
the boys' governess watered it so hard that it removed all the seed, so
we tried again. Then the water was shut off while pipes were being laid
on the highway below, and only at dawn and after dark could we get a
drop. I did the watering in my night-gown, and was soon rewarded by a
little green fuzz. Then all the small rabbits for miles around gathered
there for breakfast. They were so tame you could hardly drive them
away, so I invited the brothers who kept the hardware store in the
village to come up and shoot them. They came gladly and brought their
friends, but were so very anxious to help that I thought they were going
to shoot the children too, and had politely to withdraw my invitation.
The gardener and I then made a luscious compound of bacon grease
and rough-on-rats, which we served on lettuce leaves and left about the
edges of the grass plot. Did you ever hear a rabbit scream? They do. I
felt like Lucretia Borgia, and decided that if they wanted the lawn they
could have it. Oddly enough, a lot of grass came up in quite another
part of the garden. I suppose it was the first planting that Fräulein had
blown away with the hose! We often have surprises like that in
gardening. We once planted window-boxes of mignonette and they
came up petunias--volunteer petunias at that. Of course, it all adds to
the interest and adventure of life.
After the water-pipes were laid the gas deserted us, and we had a few
meals cooked on all the little alcohol lamps we could muster. Then the
motor fell desperately ill, and from then on was usually to be found
strewed over the floor of the garage. Jerome K. Jerome says about
bicycles, that if you have one you must decide whether you will ride it

or overhaul it. This applies as well to motors. We decided to overhaul
ours with a few brief excursions, just long enough to give an
opportunity for having it towed home. One late afternoon we were
hurrying across the mesa to supper, when our magneto flew off into the
ditch, scattering screws in all directions. Fortunately, a kind of Knight
Errant to our family appeared just in the nick of time to take us home
and send help to the wreck. I once kept a